The grave markers of the General and his wives,
Hannah and Johanna have been the subject of both mystery and
tragedy. One stone took a three hundred mile voyage, only to
be installed in the wrong location. Another was discarded behind
a barn and became buried for the next eighty years. The third
stone marks the resting place of someone too young to pass on.
Despite it’s broken and weathered condition, this marker
stands as a reminder of the sacrifice of those involved in the
American Revolution.

The General’s Gravestone (above)
General William Floyd died August 24, 1821at his home in Westernville.
He was buried in the cemetery behind the Westernville Presbyterian
Church. The original stone is rectangular in shape and made
to rest horizontally on four stone supports, giving the marker
a tomb-like appearance. The General’s second wife, Johanna,
has a similar marker and was buried next to the General. Traditionally,
these horizontal markers suffer from weather deterioration much
more than stones in the vertical alignment. Apparently this
reality, together with a desire for a more stately marker motivated
family members a few friends to place a single , more grand
stone where the two stones had been. According to a 1955 letter
written from descendants in Upstate to those in Downstate New
York, the monument was placed in 1904. A July 3, 1897 article
in The Saturday Globe, a local newspaper, would appear to dispute
this date. The article talks about a pilgrimage taken to Westernville
to view the stone and the acknowledgement that the new stone
was in place. The article also reveals that a local resident
remembered that the General’s original stone lay “for
several years in a blacksmith shop before it was taken down
to Long Island.” A book entitled “The Refugees of
1776 from Long Island to Connecticut” by Frederic Gregory
Mather states “With his wife Johanna, General Floyd is
buried near his later home, at Westernville. The tombstones,
shown herewith, were at Westernville until 1895, when they were
removed to Mastic (site of his original estate).”
It seems, however, that Mr. Mather was only half right. The
fate of Johanna’s stone is revealed in Johanna’s
Stone which follows. The General’s stone did make the
long trip from Westernville to the William Floyd Estate at Mastic
Beach, Long Island. Who negotiated its procurement and how it
was transferred is not known. Jackie and I first visited the
Long Island estate in 1978, the first summer we owned the General
William Floyd House. At that time, we had just begun our research
of our new purchase and we were unaware of the “stone
story.” We were both surprised and concerned when we found
the General’s original stone in the Floyd family cemetery
on the grounds of the estate. It lies horizontal, unsupported
by pedestal stones, slightly buried in the ground. Since the
National Park Service was planning a self guided visitor experience
of the estate grounds, we expressed our concerns that the presence
of the stone might lead one to believe that the General was
actually buried there. The Park Service agreed and in their
visitor brochure has the following explanation: “William
Floyd’s original gravestone is the one lying flat at ground
level. It was moved here when a new monument was erected at
his actual gravesite in Westernville, New York, to which he
moved in 1803.

Johanna’s Stone (above)
In 1979, the 175th anniversary of the General William Floyd
House, my dad and I were busy clearing a large quantity of debris
and overgrown brush behind the barn, near the house. My dad’s
rake hit something very solid under about three or four inches
of dirt. At first we thought this solid object was a foundation
stone. The object measured 3’ wide, 4-1/2’ long
and 2-1/2” inches thick. When we flipped the stone over,
we realized that we had stumbled on the gravestone of Johanna
Floyd. The General’s second wife had passed away November
24, 1826 at the age of 79. The inscription was well preserved
having been covered for over eighty years. It read: “Sacred
to the memory of Joanna Floyd, widow of Gen. William Floyd,
who departed this life on the 24th day of November, 1826, aged
79years.” After determining that Johanna was indeed buried
in the Westernville Cemetery with her husband, the newly discovered
stone was moved to the future General William Floyd Center,
where it will be on display.

Hannah’s Stone (above)
After the battle of Long Island, the British became an occupying
force. It was not a safe place to be if you were sympathetic
to the revolutionary cause. It would have been an especially
dangerous place if your husband had just signed the Declaration
of Independence. Hannah and her three young children fled to
Middletown, Connecticut. It is not known to me, where she and
children lived while in exile. Hannah enrolled her son and two
daughters in school in Middletown. The General would visit whenever
he could be excused from his duties in Philadelphia. Hannah
would never see her Long Island home again. She died on May
16,1781 and was buried in Middletown. Unfortunately, this is
were recorded history leaves poor Hannah. She would die while
separated from both her home and her husband and become a relatively
obscure casualty of the Revolution. This injustice had always
bothered us and we vowed to find her gravestone someday.

Someday would come on February 28, 2003 in a rather bizarre
set of circumstances. We were final stages of the restoration
of the drawing room (see Restoration). The fireplace was in
need of a fire back that would match the other three fireplaces
on the first floor. We decided to visit a blacksmith shop in
Woodbury, Connecticut that has created other ironwork for us,
including many hand-swaged square headed nails. At about 6:00AM
as we were walking out the door, I decided to check our e-mail
(something that I rarely do at that hour). But alas, there was
a message from a Bill Maune from Middletown, Connecticut. He
said that he had been reading a book “The Signers of the
Declaration of Independence” and learned of Hannah’s
fate. He contacted the Middlesex County Historical Society and
a non profit organization dedicated to upgrade historic grave
sites. They directed him to Mortimer Cemetery and after an extensive
search found Hannah’s stone.

We decided to visit Middletown after leaving Woodbury. We were
unable to get in contact with Mr. Maune that morning, but we
decided to check with the information desk at the local library.
She not only gave us directions to the Mortimer cemetery, she
called ahead to the fire station where the keys were kept to
make sure they would be ready for us. We signed out the keys
and the adventure continued – at least until we reached
the gate. Unfortunately, the gate was frozen into the remnants
of a freak Connecticut storm that came through the week before.
At this point I began feeling a bit like Clark Griswald in National
Lampoon’s Summer Vacation. I didn’t come all this
to be denied this close to end of the quest. I took out my pocketknife
and began to hack away at the glacier holding the gate. It would
have been faster waiting until the spring thaw. My wife said
I had that look in my eye and she told me she would be waiting
in the car. I convinced her to go back the fire station with
me. There our luck began to turn. Ironically, the fire chief
turned out to be the son of a physician who practiced for a
number of years in Rome, New York, a short eight miles south
of the General William Floyd House. The chief took pity on the
man with the crazed look and sent one of his new recruits out
with us to free the gate. At last we were in! Following an extensive
search, through snow over our ill-prepared feet and with darkness
closing in, we literally stumbled onto Hannah’s stone.
There before us lay the object of our quest. Instead of euphoria,
we felt only sadness. Laying before us was a small, austere,
weather worn stone that had broken in two. The footstone had
three words on it: “Mrs. Hannah Floyd.”